


I'll Worship You

by neverananghel



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Egypt, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Ancient Egypt, Ancient Egyptian Deities, Dark fic, Graphic Violence, Human Sacrifice, M/M, character death because sacrifice!!, prompt from xiuhanaestheticau, took a lot of creative liberties for this prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 15:35:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11923917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverananghel/pseuds/neverananghel
Summary: The sacrifice of one is for the good of all.





	I'll Worship You

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this [prompt by xiuhanaestheticsau](https://twitter.com/xiuhanaesthetic/status/824449643849322496) in Twitter
> 
>  _Duat_ is “underworld” in Egyptian history/mythology, according to Google.
> 
> I TOOK A LOT OF LIBERTIES IN THIS STORY. The temple, the God, the setting, even the processes. If you’re expecting an accurate or close portrayal, you’ll be sorely disappointed. I don’t know a lot about Egyptian culture, mythology and geography so please bear with me.

“The time has come, my brothers and sisters.”

 

There’s some shuffling as the high priest settles on his seat, his frail body looking like it’s being engulfed by the high and tall chair, a seat designated for the head of their temple, the one believed to be the closest to their God, Anubis, himself.

 

The other older priests then line up on each side of the seat, their heads bowed and hands clasped together. The dim lighting of the room seems to emphasize how time has aged their mortal bodies—the skin not covered by their robes wrinkled and pallid, the shadows cast on their faces deep with the long years they experienced, their forms frail, very far from the youthful splendor the new disciples of the temple exhibits.

 

A sigh comes out from high priest’s mouth, “Our God himself visited me in my dreams last night.”

 

With this statement, low murmurs of astonishment and envy erupted from the other priests in the room.  The high priest truly is the closest to the almighty Anubis.

 

The high priest raises his right hand and the whisper stops. He continues, “It’s time for the new generation to take over. Our journey has ended, and I can feel that my—our—time will come soon. So, my dear beloved sisters,” the elder’s voice carries stronger, “to prepare for our descent to the _duat_ , you need to prepare.

 

“His Almighty spoke to me in my dreams, ‘My child, your journey through my realm will be difficult. You will face many trials, to prove that you are worthy of your place not only in the _duat_ but also in your voyage to Osiris and immortality.’”

 

With the high priest’s strong voice above the silence, every disciple present listens attentively to their deity’s message, determination to fulfill his request feeding the fire in their eyes.

 

“For your elders’ journey be smooth, my dearest brothers and sisters, His Almighty requests a sacrifice.”

 

One of the younger disciples, unable to contain his curiosity, asks, “What kind of sacrifice, High Priest?”

 

“A human one.”

 

The murmurs started again, until another disciple speaks up, “But we can’t, High Priest!”

 

Before the High Priest can retort, another elder priest, the one standing right next to the throne, raises his head with fury vibrating through his brother, “How dare you defy the High Priest? The highest of us all disciples of the Almighty Anubis, and the closest of to our God? He has served Him for the longest time—definitely longer than you—longer than all of us! Has he ever led this temple, its disciples and its worshippers astray, has he? _Has he?_ And yet you, you—,” the priest points to the disciple who decided to speak up, “you dare question the High Priest’s statement of his dream?

 

Then my brother, for us, your elders, what do you want us to do when our time comes to leave this realm? Do you wish for us to be eaten by Ammit? Or our souls to be destroyed when thrown into the fiery lake of fire—unable to continue our voyage to Osiris and immortality? Speak up now—I’m asking! **_Is that what you want_**?”

 

The disciple, his youthful face now ashen, his body trembling from the force of the elder’s wrath, cowers, “N—n—no, E—elder P—p—priest. I wa—I was just—”

 

His vexation fueled by the weakness being displayed by the younger, he shouts, “ _Silence!_ I will not hear of such insolence!”

 

The silence in the room is suffocating, the tension palpable in the air. They all know of Ammit, the Devourer of the Dead, and they also know of the lake of fire. If you ever fall into the hands of these, your soul will become restless forever or destroyed.

 

Sensing the fear spreading among those present in the room, the high priest stands up from his seat, a soft smile on his face. He starts walking towards the young disciple who protested, patting one of his elder brothers on the way to calm him down.

 

The young disciple startles when a palm lands on his cheek, but instead of a slap that he’s expecting, he’s given a caress. He looks up and there he sees the High Priest’s soft smile and even softer gaze.

 

“My child,” the High Priest starts, “I know what you mean.” He drops his hand from the younger’s face and turns around the room, meeting each and every present person’s eye, “We have not done any human sacrifices ever since the time of our even greater elders. But, my brothers and sisters, we _must._ It is His wish, and His wish, His words, are what this temple stands by, what we, as his disciples follow.

 

“Is that clear to all of you?”

 

A chorus of “yes, High Priest” resounds in the room. The High Priest starts to walk back to his seat when a sister voices out the most important question, “But who should we sacrifice, High Priest?”

 

The High Priest only smiles.

 

There can be only one.

 

\--

 

_“Kim Minseok!”_

Upon hearing his name, Minseok smiles and runs faster towards his friend who’s sitting at their usual spot, a small clearing in between papyrus reeds and date palms, near the banks of the Nile River.

 

“Luhan! You’re already here—again!”

 

Minseok reaches where Luhan is sitting at a laid out blanket. He immediately plops down beside his friend, sighing tiredly, and then breathing in the fresh wind. He can finally relax since he’s done for the day.

 

Every day, at lunch time, he and his only friend, Luhan, meet at their spot to share whatever food they have. As an orphan, Minseok has to work for his food, so he can only bring very few, depending on how generous his masters and the other people in the village that day. More often than not, he’s only given a bread to make him last until tomorrow.

 

“Of course,” Luhan chuckles lightly, “I always come before you.”

 

Instead of answering, Minseok just smiles. It’s always nice to have some quiet time when he has been breaking his back mowing the field of an old farmer in exchange for his food for the day. He starts taking out the bread given to him from its makeshift wrapping.

 

As per their lunch tradition, Luhan also starts taking out the food that he brought. But instead of the same bread that Minseok got from his work, his friend takes out foods that are usually only eaten by those who have plenty in life. His friend takes out roasted meat—goose and beef, from what it looks like— beer and some boiled fish.

 

And just like any other time, Minseok is in awe—he only ever gets to eat meat and fish whenever Luhan brings it. And while he does have chances to drink beer, the quality of beer that his friend brings is better than anything that he’s tasted before.

 

The slightly younger male lays out everything in front of Minseok, gesturing for him to eat first.

 

Minseok grabs a piece of the roasted meat and moans in delight as the beef melts in his mouth, the flavor exploding. He continues chewing, enjoying the food that he can only dream of tasting but is possible because of Luhan. Minseok doesn’t talk until he’s finished, and even when he’s done he continues licking his mouth, savoring the taste as long as possible.

 

He hears a chuckle beside him, and that’s only when he remembers that he’s not actually alone, but with company. He blushes in embarrassment.

 

Seeing Minseok’s red face, Luhan laughs some more. “Wow, I didn’t know beef could be that… _sexual._ ”

 

Minseok’s face just turns redder, eliciting another round of chuckles from his friend. When it’s been a few seconds and his friend doesn’t show any sign of stopping, Minseok faces Luhan with a glare—a glare that he wishes is menacing but is really just adorable. He pouts when he realizes that the threats he sends out through his eyes are not effective.

 

Luhan just smiles at him, the smile that makes his face look creepy, “Stop pouting! Here,” he grabs a piece of meat and hands it out to Minseok, “go have some more.”

 

And Minseok is more than happy to do so.

 

\--

 

In no time, the two friends clear up everything that they have laid out on their makeshift picnic blanket. Feeling full from their lunch, Minseok lays his head on Luhan’s lap, the other automatically carding his long, thin fingers through his hair.

 

He lets out a sigh of contentment. Despite the glaring sun, the wind from the river is cool, creating a perfect balance in the temperature. He has to go to work in a few, but he still has time, so he closes his eyes, lulled by his friend’s petting. And when Luhan stops his ministrations, he nudges those wonderful hands with his head, a grunt coming from him to signify his discontent.

 

Luhan snorts, finding it funny that his friend acted like a discontented animal. He cards his fingers through Minseok’s hair again, asking, “Are you a cat?”

 

Stirred from his drowsy state because of his friend’s voice, he snarks, “Why, thank you for that compliment.”*

 

In retaliation, Luhan pulls his hair a little, then soothing it immediately afterward. A comfortable silence settles between them.

 

Then, they hear some scratching near their spot. Minseok sits up, Luhan’s hands falling from his head as they turn to the reeds. A jackal passes through the reeds, immediately going for Luhan’s side. Minseok chuckles as his friend pets the animal’s body, “That jackal’s* here again. He really likes you, Lu!”

 

Luhan just nods, too busy pouring his attention to the animal. Minseok turns away from him, looking at the position of the sun, and deciding that it’s time for him to go. He stands up and brushes away the dirt that lingered in his pants.

 

He says goodbye to a distracted Luhan, chuckling when the jackal licks his friend’s face, the other grossed out and falling on his ass because of the hyperactive animal, his [pendant](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=&url=https%3A%2F%2Fimage.spreadshirtmedia.com%2Fimage-server%2Fv1%2Fmp%2Fcompositions%2FP1015214977T110A1MPC1024530352PA176PT14X59Y110S126%2Fviews%2F1%2Cwidth%3D300%2Cheight%3D300%2CappearanceId%3D1%2CbackgroundColor%3DE8E8E8%2Cversion%3D1485316342%2Fegyptian-cross-egypt-men-s-polo-shirt.jpg&psig=AFQjCNEQi783aZ6cnRMJ_GAEX1gJJoMB_Q&ust=1503936771887350) usually hidden beneath his shirt, coming out.

 

\--

 

Minseok walks back to the village leisurely, humming a tune to himself. He’s already thinking of the tasks that he needs to be done. Flooding season** will come again so he needs to work faster and help his masters to harvest all their crops (no matter how meager they are since his masters are kind, old people).

 

He’s thinking so hard that he doesn’t notice someone following, nor did he expect the hit at the back of his head, making him fall.

 

It’s like the time slowed down, the confusion and panic he’s feeling flooding him, his only thoughts are variations of what’s and whys—what is happening, and why is it happening to him.

 

The last he sees before he totally blocks out are robes which suspiciously look like it belongs to a priest.

 

\--

 

 

The consistent throbbing pain from the back of his head wakes Minseok up. He groans, opening his eyes slowly, trying to decipher his surroundings.

 

_I… remember someone hitting me from the back of my head. Me… falling down and going… unconscious._

 

He opens his eyes fully to a beaming orange light from the ceiling, which he realizes is a hole to let the natural light come in. The light gives the room a hazy glow, and he rakes his eyes to try to figure out where exactly he is, moving his body to get up when he realizes that he can’t.

 

_Why?_

 

He tries getting up again with a little more force, barely moving when he falls back down, his head hitting something hard, something like… _stone._ He can feel the panic set in, so he takes a deep breath, looking down at his body to see ropes tying his hands, his torso, his knees, and even his ankles. He twists a little to see if it will budge, but to no avail, whoever fastened him to—to—to _whatever_ stone platform it is, he, or she did it tightly, leaving no chance for him to escape.

 

_Why?_

 

Other than what is lighted by the rapidly diminishing light from the ceiling, he can’t see anything. The rest of the room is dark, making it seem enormous and tiny at the same time.

 

He breathes deeply once again, forcing his heart to calm down. The deafening silence, as well as the stillness in the room, is terrifying. He can’t see anything beyond the darkness surrounding him, and even the light that he had when he woke up a few moments ago is quickly vanishing. He croaks out a hello, hearing only resonating echoes.

 

Minseok feels like time is sand slipping through his fingers, as the room he’s in gets dimmer and dimmer, the light from the ceiling disappearing fast until the clouds painted with the colors of dusk he can see passing by is replaced with nothing.

 

He’s enclosed in a pitch black void, where no sound can be heard, even his loud breathing seeming muted. He can feel his heart pounding wildly in his chest, but he can’t hear anything—as if he was transported into a world of nothingness.

 

He closes his eyes, trying to think of possible situations he could be in and how he can possibly escape when he sees a floating light from the end of the room, a vague figure visible that seems to be holding it. This someone then proceeds to move across the room, not going anywhere near Minseok. The light—which he now realizes is fire from a lamp—is being bent, reaching something— _another lamp._

 

The figure then moves around the room, lighting each lamp along the way. With each lamp lit, Minseok sees more and more figures around the room, all of them wearing what looks like the robes of priests, but their faces covered with a hood. And though he can’t see their faces, he can feel their eyes watching his every move, as if waiting for something to happen.

 

When the last lamp is lit, the first figure— _person—_ that he saw blows the fire of the lamp that he’s holding, settling somewhere in the ground, and settles somewhere that he can’t see with his limited line of vision.

 

Minseok is about to open his mouth to ask them— _anything—_ when a deep, frail voice speaks up from the circle of hooded figures around him.

 

“ _Kim Minseok._ ”

 

The one who called him stayed silent, as if waiting for him to acknowledge. He gulps, and shakily replies, “Y—yes?”

 

Even if he can’t see the man’s face, he can feel the smile that’s taking shape on his lips, causing Minseok to shiver involuntarily.

 

“I— _we_ —and our dear God, Anubis, thank you for your sacrifice.”

 

 _What?_ “W—w—what?”

 

As if not hearing Minseok’s question, the hooded figure continues, “Your sacrifice is deeply appreciated. Me—and the other elders—will definitely see you in _duat_ , child.”

 

“What?”

 

Minseok sees the priest signal to someone he couldn’t see. He tries to twist and turn his body to know what will happen, his mind blanking in panic when he notices that the figures are now moving closer to where he is, their heads bowed so that he can’t see their faces. He tries to ask what is happening, amidst the faint but uniform noises he hears which assumes are their footsteps, hoping anyone will answer so that at least he _knows_ , but they ignore his steadily rising voice.

 

When the figures are circling the platform, that’s when he notices that the faint noises he hears are not actually footsteps, but _chants._

 

_Why?_

 

The chants continue even when a hooded figure steps closer to Minseok’s form and removes his hood. _The High Priest._ A veiny, frail hand caresses his face lovingly as if a parent to a child. Minseok tries to find comfort from the High Priest’s touch amidst all the confusion, but instead, he feels more and more scared the longer the elder touches him, the expression on his face so blissful and relaxed but his eyes burning with fire.

 

He tries to reach out to the elder, hoping to get at least some clarification on what is going on, “H—h—high p—p—priest?”

 

The High Priest just hums, just continuing his ministrations. Minseok, out of instinct, thrashes against his restraints, trying to untie or loosen at least one of them. He feels the elder’s hands stop and tuts, but he continues to twist and turn his body, not giving up hope. He continues, even when he hears the High Priest commanding another about giving something. He continues and continues, his terror fueling his desire to get free, numbing him from the pain the friction brings until he feels a searing pain on his chest.

He looks to see a knife held by the High Priest, its point slicing through his skin in a [pattern](http://lh6.ggpht.com/_rL0gxcbMlvY/S1WmftoieBI/AAAAAAAABS8/50RXgYS2Ua4/anubis.jpg) he can’t even process. All he can do is scream, scream, and scream—as the figures surrounding the platform now hold him down, rendering him immobile, unable to avoid the excruciating torture being inflicted upon him. It’s like every stroke of the blade is fire burning his skin, scorching him alive.

 

After what seems a long while, the knife stops its movement, giving Minseok a short reprieve. He can barely think, his breathing so harsh, his mind blank except for the throbbing ache from where the knife moves through his chest, his eyes blurry from tears.

 

He assumes it’s the end, but when he feels the same burning feeling now on his stomach, he can only scream, again.

 

\--

 

The High Priest loses his grip on the blade, sending it to the ground crashing and bloody. It’s done. Their sacrifice is done.

 

Their sacrifice’s body lies still on the wooden platform, faint breathing coming from its nearly lifeless body. The site is a bloody mess, but at least he was able to properly engrave the name of their God to the sacrifice’s skin—in his chest, stomach, arms, and legs.

 

An elder priest comes up to him and asks, “What do we do now, High Priest?”

 

He puts a hand on the frail shoulder of his brother, turning to face him and seeing clearly that the youthful and attractive face he remembers his memory is now replaced with a still attractive face, but weathered by time, wrinkled and droopy. He can’t believe that it’s already their time to leave this world—because when he closes his eyes, he can still relive the moment he first stepped inside the temple as a temple servant-in-training, uncertain and full of innocence from the way the world truly works.

 

He turns his eyes to the body of Kim Minseok, a young lad, with such a beautiful smile despite all the hardships that he went through, lying on the stone altar on the brink of death. He can’t help but feel wistful for the waste of his future—he _knows_ that Kim Minseok can be so much more. Even as the closest to their God in the temple, he doesn’t understand why His Almighty _specifically_ asked for the child.

 

He sighs, bringing himself out of his thoughts, “We can only wait, my brother.” He’s just about to turn to address the other priests when someone points to the altar and screams, “Jackals!”

 

And sure enough, when the High Priest—and the others—look at the stone altar, they see jackals, more or less ten of them, circling around the sacrifice’s body. _This must be a sign,_ the High Priest thinks.

 

He turns to his brothers and sisters, a big smile on his face, obviously overjoyed by the turning up of a group of jackals. “Rejoice my dear brothers and sisters! We all know that our God, the Almighty and Great Anubis’ representation is a jackal. I assure you that this is a sign of his blessi—”

 

His announcement is interrupted when a scream tears through the room, followed by a growl, and the sound of ripping of—of—of— _flesh._ He whips his head to where the sound came from to see one of the younger priests body down on the floor, a jackal hovering near her neck, her eyes lifeless. Soon, more screams erupt in the room as the group of jackals attack each person; they’re eyes gleaming with blood lust, going for the kill.

 

The High Priest is dumbfounded by such aggressiveness. He stands there, eyes wide, mouth agape and frozen in place, as he sees a group of animals he knows is represented by His Almighty, killing his brothers and sisters who serve him. It can’t be possible that this group of jackals are wide animals—the room they’re in is in the innermost of the temple. The only possible way to get in normally is through the door, but for the ceremony to go smoothly, they barred it. Another possibility is the hole in the ceiling where the light from the sun can come in, but it’s so high up that a pack of animals can’t possibly scale the walls of the temple to reach it. So, why, _why?_

Just then, he hears ominous footsteps echoing across the floor from behind him. He turns around swiftly, and he was faced by a person—a person wearing a finely made head piece with the head of a jackal and a scepter bearing a sacred symbol in his right hand. And he knows, he _knows_ , this—this person is _Him._ Anubis himself.

 

The High priest gets on his knees in a daze, lowering his head to bow but keeping his eyes locked on the face—the real face—of the person he worships all his life. He has tried to imagine numerous times how He will look like, but nothing comes close to what he is seeing right now.

 

Despite being the ruler of the _duat_ , the Great Anubis has very youthful and soft-looking features. Doe eyes, a tiny pointed nose, and luscious looking pink lips. He doesn’t know whether the gods and goddesses who rule them can choose what kind of appearance they bear, but he admits that the figure before him, there’s no doubt, is a God.

 

A soft, melodic voice breaks the High Priest from his observation, “Thank you, High Priest.”

 

“W—what do you mean, my Lord? It is _me,_ ” the High Priest chances a look to the God but sees the deity’s attention fixed on the sacrifice so he lowers his gaze immediately, “who should be thanking you, my Lord.”

 

“Would you please look up, my High Priest?”

 

Eager to please his Lord, he looks up shyly, only to see a jackal, with its jaws wide open and sharp teeth visible, leap at him.

\--

 

_Not caring about the screams of horror erupting from the older man, Anubis comes closer to the figure lying lifeless on the altar. When his pets started playing, the sacrifice, Kim Minseok, took his last breath. And thanks to the High Priest’s vast knowledge with human sacrifices, the marks of his name across Minseok’s body only signifies that his soul will only belong to him, and him only._

He’s finally mine.

_The God grins from ear to ear, letting his hands roam among Minseok’s body, cleaning up the mess of blood and at the same time, healing the wounds of the markings, each cut disappearing without a trace, leaving only the same smooth skin as if it has never been touched. He snaps his fingers and the bindings all snap apart, and he lands gentle touches on the parts that he can see the marks of the ropes on the other’s skin._

_Anubis leans over Kim Minseok’s face, closer and closer, until their lips are almost touching, and breathes him back to life._

You’re mine.

_\--_

 

Minseok opens his eyes blearily, his sight immediately setting on the sight of the only other person visible in the room. The lamps have been blown out, only the glow of the moon illuminating a small part of the room. He can’t tear his gaze from the person beside the stone altar, but he notices a few things. He feels the lack of restriction on his body, which means that he has been freed—the ropes tying him are now removed. It’s once again eerily silent in the room, and he can’t see anything else besides darkness.

 

He moves to get up, and the person beside him immediately bends down to help him. No matter how Minseok tries to come up with an answer, he can’t think of a reason why that person is here. He croaks out, “Lu—luh—han?”

 

Luhan smiles, brushing his fingers against Minseok’s bangs, and then moving them to caress his cheeks.

 

_You’re mine._

 

Minseok gulps, confusion evident in his eyes, and speaks up with a much more stable voice, “What are you doing here?” He clearly remembers waking up tied to this platform—altar—he currently on, he clearly remembers the hooded figures, the High Priest, the pain across his body, but now—now—they’re all… gone. “W—wh—wha—”

 

Luhan shushes him by putting a finger to his lips, a gentle smile on his lips, “Ssh. Minseok, sleep. Just sleep. When you wake up, we’ll be home.”

 

Suddenly, Minseok feels drowsy, his eyelids drooping. He tries to open his mouth to protest against his friend but instead he only lets out a yawn, his body feeling so heavy that his head thumps against Luhan’s chest, the other immediately circling his warm, warm, and comfortable arms around Minseok. And in just a few seconds, Kim Minseok is fast asleep.

 

When Luhan feels the body against him go completely lax, he adjusts Minseok’s position against his chest, and moves his arms to support the other’s body weight, lifting him. He removes Minseok’s body from the altar and whistles, calling the attention of the jackals feasting on the bodies littered across the room back to his side, at the same time opening the door to his home—soon to be _their_ home—the _duat._

He looks down at Minseok’s relaxed face as he steps through the portal, and smiles.

 

_You’re mine. For all of time._

****

**THE END.**

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so even if I took a lot of liberties for this story, I actually did quite a lot of research.  
> * Cats are highly regarded in Ancient Egyptian culture so when Luhan remarked that Minseok is like a cat, Minseok decided to come back at Luhan thanking him for the compliment.  
> ** Egypt is mostly deserts, but they survive because of the flooding of the Nile. During flooding season, no farming is done, but after that, the soil around Nile River is the most fertile.
> 
> For those who guessed Luhan is Anubis before the big reveal, **KUDOS TO YOU**! I did give hints like the jackal and the pendant. 
> 
> I don’t know if you will be satisfied with how I took the prompt, and I’m not completely satisfied, but I hope you enjoy it! To more XiuHan! ♥
> 
> PS: If you liked this story, buy me a coffee!  
> [ko-fi.com/neverananghel](https://ko-fi.com/neverananghel/)  
> PPS: SCREAM AT ME ON [TWITTER](https://www.twitter.com/cheonsassime/)!!!  
> PPPS: If you see any errors (grammar or typos), please let me know! :)  
> PPPPS: COMMENTS AND KUDOS GIVE ME LIFE


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